


A Leroy Family Easter

by xslytherclawx



Series: JJ Style Week 2017 [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cultural Differences, Easter, Gen, JJ Style Week, Jewish Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 10:31:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11507562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx
Summary: Otabek Altin knew the basics of Christianity. There were somehow three manifestations of the same god, although one of them was also the son of god, and the most important holiday was Easter, although most people really only cared about Christmas.In short, he knew enough to be surprised when his rink mate, who he knew was Catholic, invited him home for Easter.(JJ Style Week, Day Seven: Free Day)





	A Leroy Family Easter

**Author's Note:**

> since the YOI universe has no homophobia, we're going all out to assume it also has no other racial or religious-based prejudices of any kind, so also no antisemitism.  
> And yes, Otabek in this fic is Jewish, mostly because he's almost definitely Yuri's soulmate, and I have a hard time believing Yuri isn't Jewish, and having them both be Jewish, I feel, underscores the whole soulmate thing. I'm aware Kazakhstan is a Muslim-majority country. I realise that Otabek is probably meant to be Muslim. You don't need to tell me that. This is intentional creative license.

Otabek Altin knew the basics of Christianity. There were somehow three manifestations of the same god, although one of them was also the son of god, and the most important holiday was Easter, although most people really only cared about Christmas.

He knew some of the commonalities Christianity shared with Islam: immaculate conception, more prophets, a tendency to proselytise.

In short, he knew enough to be surprised when his rink mate, who he knew was Catholic, invited him home for Easter.

“Come on, it’s not like we’re trying to convert you,” JJ said. “There’re lots of Jewish people in Montréal, and my parents are fine with that. But the rink’ll be closed, and my parents really want to have you over, especially after they learned you didn’t have anywhere to go during the holidays last year. We wouldn’t make you go to mass, or anything.”

Otabek’s family, historically, was a lot more religious than he was, and they’d been upset that he hadn’t made his way all the way back to Kazakhstan for Chanukah, but they’d understood. He was living in the dorms, and it had been lonely, even if his parents had had him on a Skype call every time they lit the candles.

But missing Passover was much more of a pain. He’d been able to fly back last year, but he was going to be moving on to seniors soon, and couldn’t afford to let himself slack off. He didn’t think he was religious enough to find a congregation, but it felt _weird_ , knowing he wouldn’t be asking the Four Questions, or looking for the afikomen.

“Look, Beks, to prove it, we’ll find some… non-ultra-orthodox synagogue in Montréal and see if we can do Passover there. My parents always cook a ham, so if you don’t eat pork, I can ask them to make something else.”

“I eat pork, JJ.”

“So you’ll come?”

He sighed. It sounded better than staying in his dorm with everything closed and nothing better to do than watch movies. “Yes, I’ll come.”

JJ cheered. “Awesome! You won’t regret it!”

Otabek wasn’t convinced. But it had to be better than spending all of Passover alone in the dorms, wishing he were back in Almaty, right?

* * *

JJ’s parents picked him up late on Thursday morning, after cancelling practise for the day. Otabek had assumed that they’d go back to the family’s apartment in Toronto, but he was informed by a cheerful JJ in the car that they were going to their _house_ in Montréal, because extended family would be visiting, and it’d be easier if they were the only ones who had to make the drive.

Otabek looked it up on his phone.

It was a six hour drive.

Six hours of JJ, his siblings, and his parents talking.

When they arrived in Montréal, everyone piled out of the car. Otabek was struck by how _huge_ the French-style house was. JJ clapped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Beks, you’ll have the guest room all to yourself.”

That hadn’t been what he was concerned about. He went to get his bag out of the back, but once he had his bag in hand, JJ dragged him over to his parents. “Maman, Papa, can we go into town?”

JJ’s parents exchanged looks. “Only if you’re back by six for dinner.”

JJ beamed. “Great! Okay, Beks, let’s put your bag in your room, and then we’ll go downtown.”

It didn’t look, to Otabek, like they were anywhere near downtown. He followed JJ into the house. “How far away is that?”

JJ shrugged. “I dunno, like two blocks, three?” JJ led him up two flights of stairs, through a corridor, and opened a door. “You’ll be staying here.”

The room was about as big as his dorm room, with a twin bed on a wooden frame, and a matching night stand and dresser.

“You can put your bag down, and then we’ll go out.”

Otabek hesitated, but JJ just looked so excited. “Okay,” he said. He put his bag down and followed JJ back out. They passed his parents on the way.

“We’ll be back by dinner!” JJ called.

Otabek wasn’t thoroughly convinced that such a suburban-looking neighbourhood could be so close to downtown Montréal, but he followed his rink mate’s lead. JJ kept talking the whole time, and Otabek knew him well enough by now to know that tuning out was perfectly acceptable.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, they found themselves in downtown Montréal.

“So,” JJ said. “What do you want to do? I’d suggest getting food, but my parents will be pissed if we spoil our dinner. But we definitely need to get poutine while we’re here. And smoked meat.”

“...Smoked meat?” Otabek repeated. That was it? Just “meat”?

JJ shrugged. “It’s really good. We just can’t get it tomorrow.”

“Why not tomorrow?”

“It’s Friday, and it’s still technically Lent. We’re not supposed to eat meat on Lent.”

Right, because JJ _was_ actually as religious as his parents were, maybe even more so. Otabek had already accepted that he wasn’t keeping kosher for Passover this year. Well, not Kosher-for-Passover kosher. He was going to try to at least keep… regular kosher, as long as that didn’t mean being rude to the Leroys.

“You like books, right? Let’s find a bookstore!”

JJ started walking more quickly, and Otabek struggled to match the much taller boy’s pace. “JJ, I don’t speak French.”

“They’ll have English books.”

And that was that, apparently. Besides… Otabek did need a few new books. He belonged to a library in Toronto, but there was something special about having his own books. He could make notes in the margins or highlight important passages, and no one would care.

He followed JJ to a small, cozy bookstore. “This is the only English bookstore I know, but I’m sure there are more around.”

They went inside, and Otabek examined the shelves. Most of the books looked like they were in English, so he pulled a few interesting ones off of the shelf. He read the blurbs, flipped through them, and put back the ones that didn’t seem interesting. After he’d made his way through the shop, he narrowed down his choices in books, picking the three that looked the best, and went to find JJ, who was sitting in a chair, scrolling through his phone.

“Are you getting anything?” Otabek asked.

JJ shook his head. “You know I don’t really read for pleasure.”

Otabek still couldn’t fathom how there were people who _didn’t read for pleasure_ , but he nodded. “I’m ready to check out.”

JJ sprung up. “Great!”

Otabek bought his books while JJ bounced on his heels behind him. Once Otabek put his change back in his wallet, JJ bounded out of the store. Otabek followed him.

“I was thinking we could just walk around?” JJ said. “I know the way back from pretty much anywhere in Montréal, don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Otabek agreed.

They wandered around for another half hour or so, JJ talking the whole time, and Otabek did get a few photos for his instagram, so his family could see what he was up to, before they decided to head back.

By the time they got back to the house, Otabek was ready to curl up with a good book. He knew better, though, of course. JJ’s siblings were playing in the yard, but they ran up to them as soon as they saw them.

“C’est quoi, ce que vous avez fait?”

JJ ruffled Grégoire’s hair. “Otabek doesn’t speak French, so why don’t we speak English? We all know you can speak it just as well as you can French.”

Grégoire stuck out his tongue. “Maman a dit qu’elle a rasé servi le souper sans vous!”

JJ rolled his eyes and turned to Otabek. “Dinner’s ready. Or… at least almost.” He turned back to his brother. “And _speak English around our guest_.”

* * *

Friday night, Otabek was left to his own devices, as the entire Leroy family was going to mass. Otabek had assured them that it was fine, that he didn’t feel like he was being abandoned, and holed up with one of his new books, grateful for the silence, which was, apparently, completely unheard of in the Leroy household.

If he were honest, he was glad that they hadn’t tried to bring him along. Missing Passover was one thing, but going to a Catholic mass celebrating the death of Jesus Christ would be something totally different. He supposed that he could have found a synagogue in the city and gone to services, but he barely knew any French, and, besides, he never went to temple in Toronto – why start now, in Montréal?

Nathalie and Alain (who insisted upon being referred to as such) had told him that they’d be having some family over for dinner after mass and he’d be welcome to join them. He’d agreed to do so before they left, and, as the time sped by, he became more and more engrossed in his book. Before he knew it, JJ had thrown open his door.

“Beks!”

Otabek bookmarked his page and got up. JJ was still wearing the suit and tie he’d put on earlier.

“Have fun?” Otabek asked.

JJ shrugged. “It’s a lot of sitting still and keeping quiet for longer than I’d like, but it wasn’t terrible.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Anyway, dinner should be ready soon. My aunts and uncles and cousins are all downstairs. And they’re loud. Just so you know.”

If _JJ_ was saying they were loud, how loud _were_ they?

“As long as they know I speak English.”

“Better than half of them, I’d bet,” JJ agreed. “But then I only speak English so well because my parents always knew they wanted us to be on the ice, and you kind of need to know English for that. But I’ll remind them. Just in case.”

He left the room, and Otabek brushed off his clothes and put his book on the night stand. He looked in the mirror and realised he’d better comb his hair. A few minutes later, he made his way downstairs. JJ found him almost instantly.

“Otabek! Hey, so let me introduce you to everyone!”

Otabek didn’t even really have time to pause before JJ introduced him to about a dozen relatives. He was used to big families – he _came_ from a large extended family – but this was a lot to process in one night, especially when almost everyone had some difficult to pronounce French name. He was almost relieved when Alain announced that it was time for dinner and everyone filed into the formal dining room.

JJ guided him over to a smaller table in the corner. “Kids’ table,” JJ explained. “Only happens when the extended family all comes over. We have the biggest house, and the best location, so… you get used to it, over the years.”

“Liar,” Oriane chirped from behind them. “No one wants to be at the kids’ table.”

JJ rolled his eyes at his sister.

* * *

“So… Otabek, right?” one of JJ’s cousins… Thérèse? asked.

Otabek nodded.

“Why weren’t you at mass?”

“I’m not Catholic,” Otabek answered.

“Thérèse, you shouldn’t just ask him why he wasn’t at mass.”

“If he’s spending Easter with your family…”

“He couldn’t fly home to Passover,” JJ said. “And my parents wanted to make sure Beks got a taste of Montréal.”

“Montréal is nice,” Otabek supplied. “Although I don’t speak French.”

Thérèse looked mortally offended. “ _What_?”

Otabek shrugged. “I speak Russian and Kazakh and English. I take German as a foreign language in school, because it was the only language offered at my last school, and I didn’t want to start over.”

“What’s Kazakh sound like? Is that like Russian?”

Otabek shook his head. “It’s related to Turkish.”

“Well, damn,” Thérèse said. “I can only speak French and English.”

* * *

“That wasn’t so bad, right? Even though we were at the kids’ table?” JJ asked after everyone had left.

“It wasn’t bad,” Otabek agreed.

“Just wait for Sunday.”

“Why?”

JJ grinned. “Well, you’re not going to mass, but there are plenty of Easter traditions that I’m sure you’d find confusing.”

Otabek didn’t doubt that one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Grégoire says is “What did you guys do?” and “Mom said that she almost served dinner without you!”. I didn't do footnotes mostly because this is from Otabek's POV and he doesn't understand what is being said here.  
> [THIS](https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims3-lots-residential/title/ch%E2teau-de-verri%E8res/id/1044338/) is what I imagine JJ's parents' house to look like. It looks like a few of the houses I've seen on the google maps street view of Mount Royal, and I found this on TS3 (I didn't create that myself by any means).
> 
> * * *
> 
> This fic will probably have a second chapter, because some québecois easter traditions are insane.  
> I'm neither Catholic, nor Canadian, and the closest I've ever been to Canada was when a friend and I planned out a post-high-school road trip to Montréal to drink (and then we never did because we realised we needed money for that).


End file.
